I walked past a wine bar late yesterday afternoon and there was my psychologist sitting at the window with a man. I put my head down, held my son's hand tighter, walked by pretending I hadn't seen her. She got divorced 30 years ago or so. I should have been happy for her having a date on Valentine's Day. But something about it looked so tacky. Maybe it was because they were sitting at the window, looking out like that.
I saw her every week for 6 weeks and then every few weeks for two years. She never told me I was cured, so I kept on going back. Then one day, I added up my out of pocket expenses, considered my benefits and decided to take a break from her. I left a message with Tania at reception, I said I couldn't make my next appointment, that I'd reschedule another time. That was 14 weeks ago. No one has followed up to see if I'm all right. Two years and then nothing.
I wonder if she saw me last night from the wine bar window. On her date. I wonder if she has wondered about me.
